If I Tremble
by Pentakill Lux
Summary: AU. John brings home a strange boy after a hunt, a boy who calls himself Castiel. He bonds easely with the young Dean, but why is he really there? Read warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything related to Supernatural.

Summery: AU. John brings home a strange boy after a hunt, a boy who calls himself Castiel. He bonds easely with the young Dean, but why is he really there?

Warnings: Will contain slash, violence and sexual relations of a slightly incestrious nature between underaged boys.

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><p>It took John a while to figure out how to be the best hunter he could be.<p>

At first he wanted to skip the basics and go straight after the thing that had killed his wife, the monster that had taken his angel away from him. John was a soldier after all. But luckily there were people holding John back, good people, like Pastor Jim and Missouri. They kept telling him to think about his boys, to slow down and get habituated in the unfamiliar world of the Supernatural. "You cannot run before you learn to crawl." Pastor Jim told John with a strong arm around the younger man's shoulder.

They stayed with Pastor Jim for almost a year after the fire. Dean didn't remember much about his time there, but he remembered losing his first baby tooth in Pastor Jim's kitchen. He remembered that Pastor Jim had a big house and no kids so Dean got his own room. But every night Dean would sneak into Sam's bed after their father had tugged them in. Dean couldn't sleep when Sam wasn't there.

Dean watched as his father shot at empty cans on the fields behind Pastor Jim's church house, his young arms already holding Sam tight, shielding him from harm. He heard as Pastor Jim and his father argued, Pastor Jim telling John not to go, not to walk down that _dark road_. Dean didn't understand, but he watched one day as John packed the car, filled the trunk of the car with weapons, books and the few toys and clothes Dean and Sam had, and told Dean to get in to the back seat with Sam.

Pastor Jim watched as they drove away, a sad and worried look on his kind face. John didn't speak about Pastor Jim for seven years after that. They checked into a motel room with one bed for Dean and Sam. Dean didn't ask where his father would sleep; he just got under the covers and held Sam close, careful as always not to wake the sleeping toddler.

For a few days John would sit up at night and study maps and omens and old, thick books in the dim light of a flashlight, trying not to wake up his boys, while Dean would pretend to be asleep in the only bed in the room, arms around Sam, as if the toddler was a warm, living teddy. Three nights after they left Pastor Jim's house John went on his first hunt. It was the second of November.

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><p>Even when Dean is six and Sam begins noticing when John is gone for days, Dean is old enough to wish that John would spent just a little more time figuring out how to be a Father.<p>

It's not often John leaves the boys alone for more than a night. Usually Sam is fast asleep and Dean should be too, when John leaves to hunt. But Dean worries about his father, worries that one day his father won't come home. So he lies awake, keeping his breath even and slow, pretending to be asleep as John gathers his things and slips out into the night. Dean knows that his father would rather stay home with them, he's told Dean this and Dean believes his father. So Dean keeps quiet, tries to fall asleep as he's told, tries to be a good son and not to burden his father with his fears, hoping that in doing so, John will be proud.

John hunts many things. He doesn't tell Dean anything about what he hunts or how he kills the monsters. Dean is still too young. John doesn't tell and Dean doesn't ask. But Dean sometimes wonder out loud if his father is in danger and what will happen if someday the monsters win? Dean watches as his father's eyes go blank and John force his mouth into a sad charade of a smile. "Don't worry kiddo. This monster is no match for your dad." John always refers to the monster he's currently hunting. The monster that killed Dean's mother is never mentioned; like it's a secret you're not supposed to talk about. And as always, Dean never asks.

When Dean is seven John takes Dean out onto an empty field and teach him to aim and shoot a gun. John gives Dean his own gun and tell him to keep it under his pillow. It's after this that Dean asks his father if he can get his own bed. Dean doesn't want the gun in the same bed as Sam, scared that the toddler will find it and hurt himself. John wouldn't understand this, so Dean doesn't tell him. Instead he force himself to grow up, to sleep alone without the safe feeling of his baby brother in his arms.

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><p>One morning Dean wakes up and to find a dark-haired boy lying next to Sam in the other bed. Dean's first reaction is to get the boy away from his sleeping baby brother, but then he notice that John is home, a smell of slightly burned oatmeal and gunpowder filling the room. Slowly Dean sits up and stretches his neck, trying to see the boy's face, but he's curled in on himself, back turned to Dean's bed. Dean can tell he's not asleep though, he's faked sleep enough times to know what it looks like.<p>

Just then John notice that Dean is awake and he holds a finger to his lips and waves his son over to sit next to him on the couch. Dean slide out from under his covers and tip toe over to the couch on bare feet.

"Morning champ. I've made you breakfast." John whispers, but he can tell from Dean's frown that the boy is not going to be bribed this time. Especially not with John's attempt at oatmeal gone cold. Dean's green eyes ask the questions the boy has learn not to ask with words and John sighs. "I know. I'll tell you, I swear. I just – I don't know yet what to tell you, kiddo."

"Who is he?" Dean tries, deciding that he must be allowed to ask now that John has opened the conversation.

John clenches his jaw and seems to think it over, deciding what to tell Dean. "I found him. The monster I was hunting had taken him. I don't know who he is. No one around here has lost a child."

"So how are we supposed to give him back?" Dean asks, unconsciously choosing the words John had once used about a lost kitten Dean had found. John smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. It never does and tonight John seems even more tense than usual, just a little more absent-minded.

"We can't give him back, kiddo. We can't even leave him with the police." John lifts his head and look over to the bed, the one occupied by the dark-haired boy and Sam. "I can't risk getting seen by the cops here."

It's the first time John admits that what he's doing isn't exactly accepted by the law, but it's not really news to Dean. John had told Dean a long time ago not to let in anyone, not even the police, not a sheriff, especially not the FBI. Dean hadn't asked why. He had been just old enough to understand the expression John got on his face when Dean asked questions. This time Dean doesn't ask either, not because he shouldn't, but because he knows his father is lying. He looks over the back of the couch, eyes resting on the boy and he wonders who he really is and why John wants to keep him.

"Do I take care of him too, like Sam?" Dean is careful when he chose his words. He doesn't want to sound like taking care of Sam is a burden, because it's not. He loves Sam.

"No I think Castiel is old enough to take care of himself." John say the words with a soft voice that's almost amused and adds: "He's older than you Dean, so you don't need to protect him."

Dean just nod. It's strange though, he doesn't know the dark-haired boy, haven't even seen his face or heard his voice. And still. Still he wouldn't mind protecting him, protecting Castiel.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

It's hard for Dean to place Castiel's age. He's about a foot taller than the seven year old Dean, but he seems a lot older and Dean is sure the boy is atleast a teen. Dean doesn't talk to him that first day, and Castiel makes no attempt at conversation either, he just watches Dean, blue eyes following Dean around as he gets out of bed for the second time, as he dresses and wakes up and feeds Sam. Dean absentmindedly wonders if Castiel will get tired of watching him, but it doesn't bother him as much as perhaps it should to have those two eyes fixated on him like a spotlight.

As the days passes however Castiel becomes a mystery too intriguing for Dean to stay away from. This silent boy who can sit still for hours, whose eyes are blue and colorless at the same time, who seem to think Dean is the only thing worth paying attention to, and Dean takes the chance when both Sam and John are asleep in the early afternoon to go and talk to the boy. Sam is dreaming away in his bed, his chubby little hands grabbing at the air, his mouth a slack o. John is asleep on the couch, snoring lightly, a green quilt pulled up to cover his chest, but not quite covering his toes. In that moment Dean loves his family very much. Then he realizes that perhaps this Castiel is a part of their family too now, and Dean doesn't even know a thing about him.

"I'm Dean." Dean say, not used to talking to strangers, but knowing that it's polite to introduce yourself.

The boy doesn't smile, but his face is kind, warm and welcoming. "I know." He says, his voice deeper than Dean had expected. But it's not just deep. There's something in it, like it almost vibrates through Dean's body, like a low frequency bass. "And I'm Castiel, but you already know that." The boy continues. Dean guesses he's around twelve.

"How come you ended up with us?" Dean asks. He watches as Castiel gets up from the chair he's been occupying and walks over to sit next to Dean on the bed.

"I was alone and lost, and then your father found me. And he let me come here to stay with you, because I asked him." Castiel says. Dean is already pretty good at knowing when he's being lied to, and as far as he can tell Castiel isn't lying. But there's still something oddly stiff about his words, as if he's picked them all out carefully.

"So you're staying?" Dean doesn't know why he's asking. His father already said Castiel would be staying with them, but it's nice to hear it confirmed from Castiel himself. Dean doesn't want to attach himself to someone who's just going to leave.

"As long as you want me to." Castiel simply answers and Dean thinks it's the strangest answer he ever heard. But Castiel still isn't lying. In fact Dean thinks those few words feel more true than anything he's ever heard before. Perhaps that's why he starts loving Castiel, Dean can't tell.

All he knows is that one night he wakes up, Castiel awake as he always is, perching on the edge of Sam's bed. Dean's eyes can't quite make out Castiel in the dense darkness, but Dean knows he's there, because he always is. And without thinking about it, without thinking about why he does it, Dean shifts back in the bed and lift his covers, silently inviting Castiel into a place that once belonged to baby Sam.

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><p>A few months later Dean starts school. It's been an internal struggle for John for some time, torn between having to tutor Dean instead of sleeping and planning their next move and between having Dean go off to school and having to look after Sam himself. In the end John thinks he makes the most mature choice. Dean should go to school and get a chance at some normalcy and John knows it's his responsibility to take care of Sam, not Dean's. When they move on two weeks later, however, John doesn't enroll Dean into another school, but buys him a school book and takes a few hours once or twice a week to teach Dean to read and write. Luckily Dean is a fast learner and smart too, and eager to please his father he soak up all the information his father gives him, while Sam is asleep and Castiel is sitting on Dean's bed watching the interaction with a small smile.<p>

When Dean gets older, he and Sam leaves for school together. Dean doesn't ask why Castiel doesn't have to go to school. Dean has long time since accepted that Castiel isn't like other children.

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><p>Dean jumps as the blackbird smash into the window of their motel room. His first reaction is to look over and see if Sam is okay, Sam is always Dean's first reaction, still. Then Dean slide out of the bed where he has been reading out loud to Castiel and onto the floor. Castiel's eyes follow Dean as the boy walks bare-footed to the door and listen for a short minute.<p>

"It was just a bird." Castiel says, understanding that Dean is worried, perhaps even scared. "It flew into the window."

Dean's face clearly shows that he doesn't understand this. "Why would it do that?"

Castiel smile, one of his small and rare smiles. "Birds don't see the same way that humans does, not as detailed. It saw the trees reflected in the glass and thought it could fly through it." Castiel explains carefully.

Dean thinks this over. "Is it dead?"

"I think so, yes" Castiel slides off the bed and comes over to the door to stand next to Dean, and together they unlock the door and walk out to look at the bird. Dean doesn't know why, but the sight of the dead bird makes him sad and he doesn't notice the one traitorous tear that slides down his cheek, not until Castiel reaches over and dries it away with soft fingers.

"It didn't suffer." Castiel promise Dean, but Dean still cries and carefully Castiel pulls Dean into a tender hug. "Don't cry, Dean. Please." Castiel lets go of Dean and bends down to pick up the dead bird. It's still warm and soft. Dean doesn't understand it at first, doesn't understand how it happens, but suddenly the bird is alive, wings and claws and beak fighting to get out of Castiel's hands.

As the two boys watches the bird fly away, Dean reaches out and takes Castiel's hand. "Thank you." He whispers. Because Dean doesn't know a lot about life and death and he doesn't know anything about miracles. But he knows what's right in front of him, and he knows that Castiel is the reason the dead bird is no longer dead.

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><p>Dean watches with teary eyes as Castiel puts his hand on Dean's thigh. Seconds later the wasp sting is gone and so is the pain.<p>

Dean watches as Sam falls over and scarps his hand on the asphalt and the toddler begins to scream. Dean picks him up and brings him over to Castiel who kisses Sam's chubby hand and make the pain go away along with the blood. Sam gives Castiel a wide smile, dimpling his chubby cheeks.

Dean lies awake at night listening to every little sound, hoping, waiting for John to come home. It's been too long, two whole days too long, and Dean is so worried that Sam can feel his tension. The boy doesn't ask his big brother what's wrong. He just curls up between Dean and Castiel. In the end Castiel reach over and put a soft hand on the side of Dean's face, gently stroking his cheek. Seconds later Dean is asleep, Sam in his arms and Castiel's hand in his.

Castiel doesn't grow. John makes sure that Dean and Sam has clothes that fit them, but Castiel never outgrows his clothes. John has to sit through the fight of getting Sam to sit still long enough to cut his hair, but the young boy doesn't like the sound the scissors make as they cut next to his ear. Dean tells Sam to sit still and finally John can get the job done. Dean sits through his haircut in stoic peace, picking in the small hole in the hem of his shirt while John makes his best efforts. But Castiel doesn't need a haircut. He doesn't clip his nails or shower. He doesn't even go to the bathroom.

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><p>When Dean is nine he begins to understand more about what his father hunts. He begins to ask his father about the monsters and what he hears scare him. Not because Dean is scared of the monsters. His father knows a way to kill every one of them, and that makes them a lot less frightening. No, Dean becomes scared because the more he hears about the monsters his father hunts, what they can do and how they act, the more Dean start to think that Castiel must somehow be a monster too. He sure isn't human, Dean has though that far a long time ago, but now Dean becomes scared that one day, his father will realize that Castiel is a monster and then he will kill him too.<p>

So one day Dean leaves Castiel's side and walk over to his father, who is sitting at the round table, reading old letters and even older books.

"Dad?" John looks up, eyes unfocused and tired, but when he sees the concerned look on his son's face he pushes the book he's been reading away and pulls Dean up on his lap. Dean is really too big for this, but he lets his father do this one thing still and press against the strong, protective chest of John.

"What's up, kiddo?" John asks and Dean wonders if John has even noticed that Dean isn't six years old anymore.

"I need to ask you something. It's important." John frowns at Dean's serious face, at the concern in his son's eyes.

"Whatever you need, son. Whatever you need."

"Is Cas a monster?" Dean watches his father's face, carefully analyzing every change in his features. When John looks over Dean's head and catch Castiel's eyes, Dean's eyes automatically follows, however.

"No son, Cas isn't a monster. Castiel is nothing like the monsters I hunt." John assures him. "There are good things out there too. Things looking after us and keeping us safe."

"And Cas is one of those things?" Dean presses on, wanting his father to say the right words, the words that will make Dean relax.

"Yeah, Cas is definitely one of those things. That's why I brought him here, so he could look after you when I couldn't. To make sure you're safe when I'm away." John tugs an arm around Dean bringing him into a bearhug. "You're scared I would hunt Cas?"

Dean knows his father means for it to sound like a joke, a silly idea, but Dean doesn't think it's silly. He don't know how he'd cope if Castiel was taken away from him now.

"Look, kiddo." John starts understanding that Dean needs the reassurance. "When we lost your mother I was a real mess, you don't remember I know that. But I just missed your mother so much. And I wasn't the father you needed, the father Sam needed." John looks over Dean's head again seems to look to Cas for permission to continue. Castiel nods ever so lightly. "But then one day I ran into Castiel, and he told me that he was here to protect you. And I knew he'd do a really good job, a better job than I had. So I brought him home." John gently lift Dean's chin meeting his son's eyes. "I knew he was good, I knew he was special, and I knew he would fit in here with you. And I would never do anything to hurt Castiel, I promise you son."

Dean listens hard and believes John's words. When Dean crawls into bed next to Castiel that night he carefully wrap his arms around Castiel's chest, even though they are far too old to cuddle like children. But Dean doesn't care, because he gets to keep Castiel. A few weeks later Dean turns ten and after that Dean starts calling Castiel his brother.

To Be Continued.

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><p>AN: The next chapter will be a bit different. It will be Castiel's POV for one and it will be where we learn something important about the young special boy. Shush! You'll never guess…


	3. Chapter 3

"In fact. Why don't you go back to Crowley and tell him that I said you can both kiss my ass!" Dean turns his back, making the words and the dismissal final.

Castiel doesn't have words to counter this. He doesn't know a way to make Dean listen to him, and even if he did, his angelic brain, efficient as it is, is being flooded with _Dean, Dean, Dean_… the name a symbol for everything Castiel knows about emotions, and as always Castiel clings to this name when he can't deal with the amount of emotions drowning him.

Instead he flings himself up and away, leaving Dean behind, but taking his words with him, the human heart in his chest beating fast and aching in a way no wound or injury has ever hurt before.

Castiel didn't miss the slight tremble running through Dean's body, or the way he pressed a hand to his lips to keep the choked sob from escaping his mouth. But that only makes it all worse. Because he did that. He hurt Dean, again.

Castiel doesn't return to heaven. He's sick of it all, tired and broken. Dean had begged him to stop, to give up on his plan to use Purgatory to defeat Rafael, but Castiel knows that in doing so, he will have to give up on everything. Give up his freedom, give up Dean. Castiel knows that at this point there is no way he can just go back, no way he can stop the domino pieces from falling. So instead he shifts out of time, swirling backwards, leaving everything behind like a damn coward.

…

Jimmy Novak is fourteen years old when Castiel finds him sitting alone in the dormitory of the orphanage where he grew up. The dark-haired boy is sick in bed, reading a book about four siblings that find a world full of adventures in a closet, the homework a younger kid in the orphanage brought him earlier is discarded on the floor next to the bed. Castiel doesn't lie to Jimmy, but he doesn't tell him the truth either. He tells Jimmy that he wants to take the boy on an adventure, a journey full of monsters and heroes, miracles and wonders. Jimmy doesn't even blink when he agrees. The fourteen year old boy would do anything to leave the orphanage.

Castiel fit easily into the younger version of Jimmy, knowing every muscle and nerve ending. Castiel has a very special relationship with this body, having regarded it as his own since Jimmy was killed by Rafael. In fact Castiel had been so closely connected with the body of Jimmy that he sometimes felt its physical reactions affect his Grace. But Castiel liked that part about having a Vessel and Jimmy is now the only choice in vessel for Castiel, no matter his age.

He keeps an eye on John for a few days before he goes to him. Castiel has never known John's soul, but as he watches him hunt down monsters with the same determination and strength as Dean possess, he finds that he likes it very much. It's a surprise how much John's soul reminds Castiel of Dean's, the same stubborn (self-)righteousness and bravery that is so distinct in Dean.

Castiel had considered lying to John and try to somehow trick him into taking Castiel in, but in the end he had decided on the truth, parts of it anyway, using John's guilt as his ticket into Dean's life. Once he has convinced John that he is in fact an angel, something pure and good, it is surprisingly easy to convince John that Dean and Sam needs someone to protect them, someone who can stay with them, someone who can give them what John cannot; time.

…

And that is how Castiel finds himself watching Dean sleeping, no trace of guilt or pain or Hell in his dreams. Castiel hadn't noticed how much his Grace had longed for Dean's soul, longed for the closeness that he had felt on his assent from Hell to earth, holding Dean's soul close to his Grace. Dean had shied away from any attempt Castiel had made to retrieve that closeness, holding on to his pointless personal space. But young Dean doesn't shy away, and for a long time Castiel can't drag his eyes away from Dean's soul, pure and untainted.

Castiel doesn't sleep. Instead he watches something he has been robbed of until now; he watches Dean grow. It's the tiniest changes, but Castiel's grace notice what human eyes would not. He watches as Dean take care of Sam and how the young Dean, completely robbed of the darkness that sometimes taints the older Dean, take the chubby toddler in his arms and kiss his dimpled cheek. And the best thing is that Dean doesn't mind at all that Castiel is staring unabashed at him, tracking his every move. This young Dean gives Castiel his uncensored love and friendship, and as Dean grows older the two of them become inseparable.

At night Castiel is curled up next to Dean, pressing as close as he can get, almost high with the feeling of Dean's soul so close to his. Castiel has never imagined that an Angel can be addicted to anything, but he thinks perhaps that he is addicted to this, to the warm glow of Dean's soul. It's like having been robbed of sunlight for centuries. And the best thing is that Castiel doesn't have to do anything to get this, Dean gives it willingly, happily. It is as if Dean has been holding back years of affection and love since his mother died, unable to give it to his absent father, so instead he now pours it out on Castiel.

Dean is always reaching for Castiel, either with his hands or his words, and Castiel is slowly drowning, slowly forgetting himself as he becomes something else, as he becomes Dean's brother in a way he couldn't be when Dean was grown, because grown Dean couldn't love anyone else than Sam. But young Dean isn't restricted in the same way. He can love Sam _and_ Castiel. And he does, with all the adoring innocence of a child.

When John one day confirm to Dean that Castiel isn't human Dean clearly doesn't care, not that Dean of any age ever did. Grown Dean quickly gave up on of his initial fear of Castiel as a divine creature and instead considered Castiel a person. Young Dean does the same.

Dean is never afraid to take Castiel's hand and drag him, rather impatiently, along the street of whatever small town they are staying in, chasing after imaginary versions of the monsters John hunts at night. Dean doesn't care that those same hands has brought a bird back to life in front of his eyes days before. Dean doesn't care that the same hands can break a grown man's leg with just a small amount of force and make a human body into a bloody pulp with a flicker of his fingers. Dean doesn't care that Castiel is a warrior, trained to kill creatures much stronger than a ten year old human boy, because Dean trust Castiel blindly, happily putting his and Sam's life in Castiel's hands when John is away.

…

John has long time ago stopped considering Castiel as an intrusive part of their lives, and he even refers to Castiel as "son", even though he understands much better than Dean that Castiel is a creature much older than mankind. This makes Castiel smile and love his life as Castiel Winchester just a little bit more. It's not until Dean is thirteen that Castiel feels the slight shift in Dean's mood when John uses the word about Castiel, just a slight displeasure. It's so subtle and Castiel is sure no human could pick it up, he's not even sure Dean notices himself. It's not long after this that Dean stops referring to Castiel as his brother. Castiel isn't even sure it's a conscious decision on Dean's part, it's just a gradually change that alerts Castiel to the fact that Dean is growing up and that his view on Castiel is changing.

The problem escalates when Dean is fourteen and John asks if the two boys wouldn't be more comfortable having each their bed. Castiel knows that John is referring to the fact that the two teens can barely fit into a single bed anymore, but Dean clearly takes the comment as something else and for three horrible days Dean doesn't touch Castiel and Castiel spends his nights sitting on the floor. Castiel has to use all his restrains not to read Dean's thoughts, not to reach out a hand and calm Dean down.

On the third night Dean can't fall asleep. Castiel is sitting next to his bed, as close to Dean as he can get without invading his space, as far away as he can without losing the warm glow of Dean's soul. Castiel can hear Dean shifting in the bed, hear his uneven breathing and the muffled sounds he makes as he bites his lip, trying to be silent. Castiel had been expecting this, but it doesn't mean it affect him any less. He keeps his eyes shut firmly, trying to block out the sounds Dean makes as the teen touches himself, testing his own body. Castiel is not interested in Dean's immature teen body in the slightest. Instead he focuses on Dean's soul, taking in the increase in heat, the stronger glow and the brightness that it radiates. Castiel thinks it's beautiful.

It turns out however that Jimmy's body is not as indifferent to Dean's muffled moans as Castiel is, and Castiel once again experience Jimmy's body sending invading signals to his Grace. It's not unpleasent or disturbing to Castiel, if anything it just makes him happy. Happy that Dean still has this effect on him, even though his Vessel is younger.

Castiel knows Dean doesn't climax, Castiel knows from experience what happens to Dean's soul when he does. For now it's just a teenager's fumbling tries at feeling something he doesn't quite know yet what is. But Castiel knows that it's a bridge none the less. It's been crossed and Dean isn't a little boy anymore. That's why, when Dean quietly gesture Castiel to take the other side of the bed the next night, Castiel doesn't cuddle up against Dean as he used to, but force a gap between their bodies, not because he wants to, but because he wants to be sure, absolutely sure that any physical interaction is on Dean's terms. Dean accepts the distance without comments, but Castiel knows it's not without regret.


	4. Chapter 4

If Castiel had been human he would have been at a huge disadvantage. As it is however, Dean doesn't stand a chance. Dean strikes out and Castiel dodges, barely, ducking and moving behind Dean in one swift, fluid movement. Dean spins around to face him, just in time to avoid an attack that would have sent him tumbling on his face. Instead he manages to reach behind himself to stop the fall with the heels of his hands, jumping back to his feet in an arch-movement, lurching straight for Castiel's chest.

It's a dance. It's gracious and fast-paced and exhilarating. Sam is watching from his bed, the book he was reading momentarily forgotten in his lap. He loves watching his brothers doing combat practice; Dean has all the energy in the world, never giving up, never giving an inch and Castiel is like a cat, fast striking and agile. They all know Castiel just have to put a little strength in any of his attacks and Dean would be out cold on the floor, but that's not the point of the exercise.

Sam only trains with Dean, which is Dean's call and it's not-debatable in the same way as not sneaking out alone at night is. All Sam knows is that if Castiel were to forget himself for just a second, if he put just a bit too much force into a counterattack he could easily kill Sam. But Sam knows his oldest brother, and Cas never lose control, never for a second. And Sam would never get a fair fight either way, because even Dean holds back, careful not to hurt his baby brother.

But Sam doesn't press the issue. The only time Sam ever bothered asking about Castiel's superhuman powers, was when he asked one night why John didn't bring Cas on a hunt, to make sure their dad wouldn't get hurt. John sat Sam down and put a hand on his cheek.

"Cas has to stay home, to keep you and Dean safe. You three boys have to stick together, no matter what. Okay Sammy?"

Sam nodded, and he thought he understood. There were bad things out there, he knew that now. Dean had told him a few years ago and John had confirmed it later on, when Sam was older. And those bad things had killed their mother, but luckily they had Castiel, who could keep the bad things, the monsters, away. Sam wasn't going to ask about it again. He knew all he needed to know. They were safe as long as they had their oldest brother with them.

But lately something had changed, and it had changed because Castiel didn't change. And now Castiel wasn't Sam's oldest brother anymore, John had said. Now Dean was the oldest and it _fit_ better, because Cas was smaller and looked younger. Sam wanted to ask why Castiel never changed, if he had ever changed, but John didn't like those kinds of questions and Dean got mad every time Sam referred to Castiel as their brother, so Sam decided not to ask about it.

Sam smiles as Dean manages to trip Castiel's legs, but Castiel turns it effortlessly so that soon Dean is the one on the floor and Castiel's squatting him with a smug smile on his face. In the end Sam lose interest and return to his homework.

The practice is over anyway; Dean calls for a break and push Castiel to the floor with surprisingly little effort, Castiel just sliding off him without looking at Dean's face. Dean locks himself in the bathroom and Castiel sit against Dean's bed, knees pulled up to his chin and arms wrapped around them.

That's how practice ends most of the time these days. At first Sam though the two were angry at each other, that Dean were mad about losing, but he had accepted that this was just a ritual his brothers had after practice, that they would simply need some time alone.

**…**

Just when Dean though he had the upper hand, Castiel somehow managed to get a hold and reverse the situation so that Dean was suddenly the one pinned to the floor with Castiel's heavy body on top. Dean is panting, adrenalin and blood pumping and making his head spin. He knows that it's a matter of seconds before his body will start reacting to Castiel's heat and weight and closeness, but he just can't seem to care right now, as his whole body ache pleasantly from being pushed too hard and his thoughts are blurry.

In the end he can't ignore his own body. He can't ignore the way it press up against Castiel's without permission, or the way he's getting hard. Luckily Castiel is sitting across Dean's chest, unable to feel the effect his closeness has on Dean, and Dean thinks perhaps Castiel is more aware where he places himself against Dean these days. The though makes Dean's cheeks burn with shame, that his brother has to avoid contact as far as possible to keep his freak of a younger brother from getting aroused by the touch.

As on cue, or perhaps by some unconscious agreement, Castiel slides off Dean's chest and back away. He doesn't look disgusted or angry, he never does, but Dean gets up and goes to the bathroom anyway, the only option he has to put a closed door between himself and his brother. Or his not-brother, as it is. Dean knows Castiel isn't his real brother and that this fact alone should make him feel less ashamed about how his body is reacting, but it just so happens that Castiel has been like a brother to him since Dean was just a kid. It just so happens that John calls Castiel `son´ and that Sam calls Castiel `brother´ and that everyone they ever meet, or stay with calls Castiel `Winchester´.

But Castiel never calls Dean `brother´. Just like he never push Dean away when Dean accidently rub against him at night when the human boy can't control his dreams or his body. Just like Castiel never looks away when Dean sometimes forgets himself and they look at each other, and Dean end up holding the other boys eyes for far too long, making the stares far too intense. Castiel always accept everything Dean does, every touch, every look. And not once had Castiel ever shown that he is disgusted by Dean.

Sometimes Dean even thinks… well, it doesn't matter. It can't matter, it shouldn't matter. Not even if Castiel would willingly give Dean what Dean wants would it make it okay. And Dean doesn't even know what he wants, all he knows is that, when he sinks against the cold glass walls of the shower, it is Castiel's soft lips he sees, and it's the feel of Castiel pressed against his body he recalls.

Castiel's light hands, so cautious - as always - not to hurt Dean, brushing against Dean's hips, finding their way past the waistband of Dean's sweatpants. Castiel's careful fingers wrapping around Dean's hard cock, grasp sure but gentle. Dean can imagine it all so clearly and he can't help but let out a breathy moan as the pictures continue behind his closed eyes.

Dean's sixteen now, and there is nothing tentative about the strokes, the twists of his wrists. He knows what he likes, know what makes his own spine tingle and his stomach tighten with pleasure. And nothing works as well as the thought of Castiel, the sound of his voice echoing in Dean's ears. Dean bites his lip, as his steady rhythm becomes more erratic, the grip tighter.

Just then there's a knock on the door and Castiel's voice is soft and muffled, "Dean, dinner's up."

And Dean doesn't care what words Castiel is saying, doesn't even try to calm himself enough to give a reply. He just clench his jaw, holding on to the sound of Castiel's voice and let himself lose it, tumbling over the edge.

Dean cleans himself up and takes a minute where he just stares at himself in the mirror, attempting half-hearted to tell himself off for giving in again, for slipping. In the end he takes a deep breath and unlocks the door to find Castiel and Sam sitting at the round table.

It's easier to pretend when they are all sitting around the table like this, Sam munching away and Castiel skeptically smelling the spaghettiOs, easier to pretend that they are just three normal brothers having dinner. Sam once called them The Three Musketeers, and Dean liked it and thought it seemed like an accurate description of them, except, Dean thinks, he's pretty sure none of The Three Musketeers were in love with one of the others.

* * *

><p>AN: So there ended being a bit of a Sam angle inhere too, even if I hadn't intended it, but I liked it once I got it going so I kept it. And yeah, sixteen is basicly underage in the States and I tried not to make it creepy to read. I always pitcure grown Jensen anyway, no matter what age they are.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I got stuck around the ending part, because I'm horrible at writing anything close to smut - which you will discover.

* * *

><p>For the first time ever Castiel changes.<p>

It's been a rough couple of weeks for Dean, helping John with research in the evening, assisting on a few salt and burns at night and then getting up to go to school in the morning. To say it mildly he is pretty much a zombi during classes(not literally of cause, Dean snorts at the fact that he lives a life where he would need to point that out), walking around half asleep until the bell rings out and he finally feel halfway awake just in time for more research in the afternoon.

This day however Dean wakes up after having slept through the night for the first time in days. John left with Bobby last night and a weeks worth of reshearch is now out of Dean's hands. When he wakes up this morning there is nothing for him to do than to get out of bed, eat breakfast and bring Sam to school like an almost regular teen.

Sam loves when John is away on a hunt and he get's to play normal, when he get's to stretch out on his bed and do his homework instead of having to read about Nagas and poltergeists and wraiths. Dean doesn't see the appeal. If he doesn't have to do research for John, there is no way he would voluntarily spend his free time doing school work.

Instead he usually does combat practice with Cas. They're getting better at it, _Dean_ is getting better at it. Dean has the body mass and weight of a man now, where as Cas is still in his twelve year old vessel, and he's having a hard time pinning Dean down with out having to resort to telekinesis. This also contribute to another factor that adds to the pleasure of doing combat practice with his adopted brother. Dean has outgrown his raging teen crush on Cas.

It happened somewhat overnight, or at least it seemed like it. One day Dean just woke up, Cas pressed tightly to his chest like the huge, live teddy he was, and realized that burring his nose in Castiel's tousled hair and inhaling his warm smell did absolutely nothing to spark any kind of reaction, other than: _umm__, have to make breakfast for the brats._

But of cause Castiel had to go spoil that. He had to, because he is a jerk when he wants to be and an even bigger jerk when he isn't trying and Dean can never be sure which size of jerk Cas is this day when he just decides to _grow_.

Sam becomes wide-eyed and geeks out in so many awkward ways, that Dean should be smiling and denouncing his youngest brother, but Dean is too busy freaking the hell out. Because his overprotective bonus-brother were finally just that - a brother, and all Dean's feelings towards him were freakishly clean. And then Castiel closes his eyes and grow an extra few years. He just grew _years_.

One moment Castiel is a small, soft, adorable tween, the next he's a young man with stubble and broad shoulders and strong chest and what the hell, Dean can't even breathe.

"Good thing Dad won't be home for another two days," Sam girly-giggles and Dean would have slapped him in the back of his head, if he was able to collect his thoughts enough. "Gives us some time to find a way to explain this."

"John knows to expect weird incidents from me." Castiel assures and sit still while Sam unashamed brushes his fingers through Castiel's shaggy, jet-black hair, ending his examination by squishing Castiel's shoulders gently.

"You got so strong."

"I wasn't aware I would look like this as a teen, I've only ever seen my fully grown body." Neither Dean nor Sam ask how Castiel would know how his grown body looks like; everything else is high enough in the weird scale to divert their attention from such comments. Castiel gets to his feet and rolls his shoulders, trying out muscles and balance.

Dean realize he's full-on staring at Castiel, only when the young man lifts his head and looks Dean in the eyes, now completely eye level, a small smirk on his face. "I'll keep one hand behind my back." He says, and it takes a few seconds for Dean to realize he's being challenged.

"Dude," Dean manages, voice surprisingly steady. "I don't think you know who you're talking to."

For a fraction of a second Dean manages to think that it might be a bad idea to start practice now, they should really be heading to school, but then Cas is sweeping Dean's right foot away from under him, leaving Dean off-balanced when the black-haired young man throw out his arm, striking Dean's left shoulder with spread fingers and sending him flying across the room.

It takes a second for Dean to realize that he didn't hit anything, that he's not tumbling into the wall of the motel room with 60 miles per hour, before he notice that his arms are pinned to his sides and his feet are dangling off the ground and that Castiel is breathing quiet huffs of laughter into his ear.

"I guess you showed me." He mumbles and puts Dean back down on his feet. Dean aims for a dignified snort as he returns to the table, rubbing a hand against the sore spot on his shoulder. He already knows that Cas' hand will leave a bruise.

"Come on Sammy. We need to get you to school." Dean says, ignoring the way Sam is beaming, hazel eyes like a pendulum between his two older brothers.

* * *

><p>At school Dean barely waits until Sam has turned a corner before he turns on his heals and makes his way back the way he came from. His hands, his entire body is shaking and he's not sure if it's excitement or anger. All he knows is that he can hardy breath and the lack of oxygen is making his head spin.<p>

Castiel is still standing there, waiting right where Dean and Sam had left him, arms behind his back, feet solidly planted, spread apart – a military pose that Dean doesn't have the imaginary to suss out where the young man has acquired. He looks as if he's been waiting for years, and Dean realize that he has - waiting Dean's entire life. Waiting for Dean to be ready, for Dean to make it here, to this point in time when the need and want and urge to take became too big?

Dean doesn't allow himself to think too much about that, he just keeps on walking past Castiel, taking long strides down the road, away from the school, and Cas can follow him now, with out having to run. Dean doesn't stop until he rounds the corner to an alley, turning on his heals and stepping right back into Castiel's space, crowding him against the brick wall.

"What the hell, man." Dean growls. "What were you thinking? Did you even think? I was finally out, I was finally sane and normal and _off of you_ and then you frigging pull a stunt like this! I can't believe you." Dean rambles the words like he's afraid his voice will break if he stops to think about them. And perhaps it's a good thing he doesn't think for once, because this isn't something he and Cas ever discussed before. They never took the time to sit down and talk about what was going on between them. Dean knew that Cas knew and Cas knew that Dean was ashamed of it and was never going to act on what he felt and that was the extend of their agreement. For a few years, until Dean turned seventeen and got a bit more control over his teen hormones, their relationship had been fragile. To talk about it, to acknowledge it as something that needed to be put into words would have broken Dean's thin thread of stamina. And even now, Dean doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't even want to talk about it. He just wants to yell until he's frigging blue in the face, 'cause he doesn't have anything, any experience or baggage to help him deal with what just happened to turn his life back upside down.

"I didn't want to be your brother." Castiel admits easely and the soft honesty in his eyes and voice gets a drop-kick on Dean who just opens his mouth and close it again, fish on land. "I never came on to you, I never touched you in anyway that could have been suggestive. I never initiated anything and still, you were attracted to me. I used to think it was because of Hell, I thought you were just drawn to my light, but this time you were pure and innocent and you were still drawn to me."

Dean doesn't understand half of what Castiel is saying, but he lets him talk, suddenly aware that the base-rumble in his voice is far more pronounced now.

"I just wanted it back Dean, I wanted your attention back on me. Because I'm selfish and immoral and I've never known that Angels could be addicted to anything."

"_Angels_?" Dean exclaims breathless, Castiel ignores him.

"But I was. I was addicted to _you_, and it wasn't just that being addicted to you was going to kill me, I _knew_ that. I've _always_ known that, because I've seen that future, and hundreds of futures like it, and I die in all of them, I die from too much of _you_." Castiel is pushing back, right into Dean's space, inches away, but he isn't lowering his voice. "But it was the fact that you were never letting me close enough to get satisfied, I never got my high. It was an eternal tease and it was driving me mad. But then I came here. And you didn't push me away and keep me at an arms length. You let me right in, you allowed me to ride an eternal high for years, and I was so happy. And even when you grew up, even when your feelings changed form admiration to lust, you didn't push me away. You still let me be close."

"Cas." Dean's voice is low and raspy. "Cas I don't know what the hell you're telling me right now." He admits. "But can we please get the hell out of here? Anywhere?"

Castiel closes his eyes, swallows. There's beat, two beats of time in which he's just standing there, chest leaned slightly against Dean's and Dean can feel a tingle, a low hum vibrating off Cas. Then the young man opens his eyes again, eyes all blue and clear and intense. A hand reaches up and taps Dean's forehead gently, and then the low hum is everywhere, around Dean and inside of him and he blacks out for what could be any amount of time.

When he opens his eyes he's standing, however, own two feet planted on the ground and Castiel is stepping away, taking the tingling feeling with him.

"What just happened?" Dean winches at the rasp in his voice, tries to pitch it back to something more demanding and _pissed_.

"I teleported us. You used to call it _zapping_."

"I _used_ to? Cas, you gotta level with me here, man. You keep talking like there's two me's. And _this_ me is getting pretty confused, I'll tell ya." Dean takes a step forward, momentarily surprised that his legs can still carry him. Castiel doesn't turn to look at him.

"There's only one you, Dean, but at the same time there a multitude of you's. Every decision sparks a new path. But I have to tell you. There aren't many paths in your life compared to most other people. You are very consistent. Vessels usually are. It makes it easier to predict their future." Castiel doesn't know if Dean can understand what he's telling him. They've discussed Castiel's form as being a vessel before, but he isn't sure Dean understood then. There is a lot of things that Castiel should have taken more time explaining. "But you were always an _extremely_ predictable vessel. You only ever had one future. But then I changed that. I started messing up your path and I was told to stay away from you."

Castiel snorts, and the topic of amusement is lost on Dean. "Of cause that was the only thing I was incapable of." He takes a few more steps away from Dean, and Dean notice their surrounding for the first time and his breath is knocked clean out of him.

"The Grand Canyon?" He huffs out a sceptical breath, all venom leaving his system. "You teleported us to the Grand Canyon?"

"You always wanted to go here." Castiel says, a small smile playing on his lips. He walks right up to the edge and sits down, legs dangling over the side. Dean want to pull him back and shove him over the edge, all at the same time.

"There you go again. Telling me about some other me. I need more, Cas. I need something to make this all make sense." Dean presses, surprised by the deep growl in his own voice. Apparently Castiel isn't the only one growing up today.

"I'd rather you would come here and enjoy the view with me." Castiel shrugs and the turns his head, eyes finding Dean's with years of practice. "Sit down and give me this moment."

Dean sighs and takes a step closer, but then stops dead. "You're talking as if you're leaving."

Castiel can't help but smile. "Don't be silly, Dean. We've already established that I'm addicted to you. It would be pretty counterproductive for me to leave you."

"Is that what I am to you? A drug?" Dean says, but his tone isn't insulted or angry. He verges the last few steps to the edge and sits down without peaking into the canyon.

"That's certainly a very apt way of putting it. Although I think we can agree that it's oversimplifying concepts a bit." Dean looks at Castiel, takes a moment to study his face, and find that it's not much different. There's still small creases by his nose when he smiles. His eyes are the same, the exact same, blue like the September sky and deep enough to hold a world of knowledge.

There's a stretch of silence. The wind is lazy and warm and crickets hiding away in the dry scrubs and a vultures high pitched shriek above them is the only ambient sounds.

"You said _Angel_." Dean points out, after minutes has passed. "You definitely said _Angel_."

"I did." Castiel confirms. "If I had been anything less, do you think John would have let me into your life, allowed me to sleep in your bed, be responsible for your well being?"

"I never thought about what you were." Dean admits. "I just cared that you were staying. That John wasn't going to hunt you and kill you."

Castiel huffs out an amused breath. "You trusted me." He lets his eyes scan the canyon, taking in the stoic beauty of it. "I'm sorry I wasn't worthy of that trust."

"What are you talking about man?" Dean's eyes are narrow slits against the sun. "Look I hear what you're saying, and I get that you somehow comes from a different place, I guess Angels can go where ever they want. But you never gave me a reason to _not_ trust you. You said you were addicted to me, but you never did anything... I mean, you never even touched me in a wrong way."

"I touched your soul though."Castiel looks away, head bowed. "As often as you would let me. That's got to be a far more severe violation."

Dean snorts. "My soul? Damn Cas, I never even believed in souls. You can touch my soul anytime you want to. You can touch all of me. Just ..." Dean trails off, turning his head away from Castiel. "Just don't talk like you're ashamed of me. I'm not a freak."

Castiel's head snaps suddenly, eyes boring into the back of Dean's turned head. "I know you aren't."

"And you're not my brother." Dean continues.

"I'm not, no." Castiel agrees, piercing eyes softening.

It's Dean's initiative, it always is, everything is. Castiel allows the inquiring hands on his chest, on his jaw and neck. He holds still as Dean leans in, resting his forehead against Castiel's as Dean's hands explore their way under Castiel's shirt.

"Cas. Touch me now, please." Dean feels breathless, dizzy. "Put your hands om me now."

And Castiel does. Tentative, searching, careful – always careful with Dean – a silent question in every touch. `_Is this okay? Am I allowed_?´

Dean isn't as careful. He's hungry, filled with want, with a young man's lust and he doens't even bother stripping the clothes off Castiel, he just takes what he can reach, kissing and caressing what ever parts of skin he can get to. And he isn't clumsy or uncertain as he claims Castiel, takes the one part of the Angel that his future self was so outraged about. And Castiel gives it all freely, his head filled with Dean, Dean, Dean, as emotion overflows his senses.

The angel closes his eyes and strips Dean bare, strips him down to his soul and takes in the warm glow. There's a white hot center, right around Dean's heart. It's so bright that even Castiel can't look straight it it. It really is a marvel.

A gentle brush of fingers on his neck brings Castiel out of his clearity and Dean comes back into focus, flesh and blood. Dean is looking at him, a mixture of concern and happiness in his eyes. `_Is this okay? Are we okay_?´

Castiel doesn't know how to explain to Dean. How this is more than okay and not at all okay at the same time. So instead he smiles, and tugs his face away under Dean's chin, clinging to Dean's chest.

"We could run away?" Dean suggest. "Just the two of us."

"And leave Sam?" Castiel frowns. Dean would never.

But Dean would. This Dean would. He just shrugs. "He'd be fine. Brains like his. He'll be going to college in a few years anyway."

And realization hits Castiel like a freight train, knocking every coherent thought out of him. All he knows is that this isn't _Dean_. At some point Castiel has changed him, made him into something Dean shouldn't be. He's been so selfish, so closed-minded and blinded by his happiness.

"We should get back." He says, getting to his feet and dragging Dean up as well. Castiel doesn't put his fingers to Dean's forehead this time. Instead he steps in, pressing as close to Dean as he can get. "Close your eyes, Dean." He whispers, breath hot and soft in Dean's ear, and then he press his lips to Dean's neck, feather light and they're gone.

* * *

><p>That night Castiel lies down next to Dean and Dean rests his head on Castiel's chest and it's like every other night, except it's nothing like any other night.<p>

"I would, you know. Run away with you." Dean says again, voice a sleepy growl. "All I need is you."

"I know." Castiel swallows and buries his face in Dean's short hair, closing his eyes to see the soft glow of Dean's soul one more time. And he _does_ know. Dean truly means it and that's what's so horrible.

That night Castiel leaves Jimmy Novak, leaves Dean and his warm embrace, clean their memories and return to the future he came from.

* * *

><p>Note: I'm so sorry that I'm a horrible person. Unfortunately there is only a epilogue left now, but I promise to be kind!<p> 


End file.
